


Falling for Love

by spelledink



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Angels, Angst, Drama, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 13:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18099170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spelledink/pseuds/spelledink
Summary: Andy Sachs is in a terrible accident. Caroline Priestly begs for help. An angel of death faces a fateful decision.





	1. Watchers

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about love and compassion. Eloa and Maryam make their choices based on these.  
> This story is not meant to offend anyone's religious beliefs.
> 
> Miranda and Andy have had a relationship for several years in this. Caroline and Cassidy are sixteen years old.

**Falling for Love**

**A Devil Wears Prada fanfiction**

**This story is a nonprofit work of fanfiction.**

**The Devil Wears Prada is the property of Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox.**

The Mercedes limousine moved down Fifth Avenue, towards 52nd Street. The silver vehicle moving, quiet, with assured power. Andy Sachs sat in the back seat, glancing at its other two occupants. Caroline and Cassidy Priestly. The girls grinned at the brunette, chattering to one another, their voices bright. Ready for a morning of shopping at the Versace outlet nearby. Andy smirked, reading the subtle change in their expressions. The loss of their usual hauteur.

_A high school dance_

Usually the girls affected a world-weary disdain for such things. But not this time. They were sixteen now, young women. Feeling the first rush and sting of desire. Of attraction.

_What will Miranda will think of that?_

The limo picked up speed, rolling ahead, towards their destination. A blare of horns sounded, to Andy’s right. She turned, looking out her window. A car, metallic gray, rushing through the intersection. Running the red light. Hurtling towards the silver car.

_Is that a Barracuda?_

A squeal of brakes. Andy threw herself sideways. Pulling the girls to her, pushing them down. Covering them. Her flesh a shield too weak, too frail to endure. It hit. A blow, like some giant fist, crushed the Mercedes’ side. The vehicle staggered, wounded, its end a sound of screaming metal. Glass shattered as the windows blew in. Falling across Andy’s back, a rain of knives upon her hair.  The limo spun, lurching as the rear axle snapped. It threw Andy against the door, dashing her head, opening a jagged gash. Andy screamed. A sharp pain inside, of something tearing. Exploding behind her eyes. A sudden fire, white, searing hot. Then darkness.

* * *

The electrocardiogram beeped, the sound of the ventilator beside it rising and falling. A brunette lay in bed beside the machines, auburn hair dull and lank. Bruises covered her face and arms. Purple, turning black. Witness to her pain. Cobalt eyes surveyed the brunette, red-rimmed and weary. Miranda Priestly sat beside her love, her Andrea, a sick feeling twisting in her stomach. A terrible unease within.

_What if she doesn’t wake?_

_If she doesn’t open her eyes?_

“What if I never get to hear her voice again,” she whispered. “Tell her how much I…”

_Love her_

It had been so sudden, so random. A car running a red light, hitting the side of Miranda’s limo, crushing the Mercedes. The vehicle that held the editor’s whole world. Her children, and the woman she loved. Miranda shook her head. A whispered prayer, desperate, on her lips.

“Have mercy, dear god, I beg you,” she said. “Take anything you want from me, anything at all. But please, please save her.”

Two figures watched, unseen. Silent as they observed. Celestial beings. Their forms lovely, as women, young and beautiful. Listening to the editor’s words. One stepped forward, her hand stretched out to comfort. Tall, jade eyes soft with compassion, her hair bright silver. Draped in white samite, her wings clad in feathers of purest snow. “There must be something we can do,” she said. Her companion replied. “Eloa, you know we cannot,” she said. “As much as we may wish to.”

Eloa turned, meeting her friend’s eyes. Blue, like the sky at morning. “Maryam, this isn’t right,” she said. “To take her so young, from all she loves, because of some mischance!” Maryam sighed, shaking her head. Brushing one hand through her hair. A stream, honey-gold, falling to her shoulders. “We are only guides, Eloa, bid to take her onward,” she said. “We cannot act.”

The door to the room opened, privacy curtains billowing out as a figure entered. A young girl, with russet hair and blue eyes. Caroline Priestly. Wearing a school uniform, streaked with dirt and blood. A long, shallow cut ran down her right cheek, taped together with surgical strips. Miranda turned, her eyes widening in concern. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” she asked. Caroline shook her head. “The doctor said I’m fine, except for this,” she said, motioning at her cheek. Miranda rose, pulling her daughter into a gentle hug. “How’s Cassidy?” she asked. The young girl shrugged. “About the same,” she replied. “They set her arm, and put it in a cast. Other than that, she’s okay. She’s sleeping now.”

Miranda nodded, a sigh escaping her. “That’s good,” she said. Her eyebrows lifted. “Shouldn’t you sleep, too?” Caroline shrugged. “I wanted to see you, and Andy,” she said. “The doctor wouldn’t tell me anything, so…” Miranda smirked, eyeing her daughter. “You decided to find out on your own?” she asked.

The redhead nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I had to.” She paused, her face paling. “Andy saw the car, before it hit us. She covered us with her own body, she…” The teen stopped, a sob bursting from her lips, tears streaming down her face. Miranda pulled Caroline into a tight embrace. “Shh, it’s all right,” she said. “Andy did what she had to do, what any parent would. She loves you, loves you both, so much.”

Caroline buried her face in the crook of Miranda’s neck, hot tears splashing on the editor’s skin. “What if she… what if she doesn’t…” the girl stammered. Miranda rocked the distraught teen in her lap, brushing kisses to her hair. “You mustn’t think that way,” she said. “Andy’s young, and strong, she has everything to live for, like you and Cassidy.” The redhead raised her head, her eyes bright with tears. “And you,” she said. “She loves you so much, mom.”

A knock sounded at the doorway. A woman, slim, athletic. Clad in a black and white Michael Kors floral-print sheath, surmounted by a white doctor’s coat. A low pair of Prada block-heel pumps, in black, on her feet. Dark chestnut hair in a simple ponytail. Hazel-green eyes greeted Miranda. “Good morning, Ms. Priestly,” the woman said, her voice a pleasant alto. “I’m Dr. Lisa Solomon. I operated on Andrea’s injury this morning.”

Miranda’s eyes narrowed. “You?” she said. “Why not someone senior?” The brunette smiled, unperturbed. “I am the senior trauma surgeon in this unit,” Dr. Solomon said. “Really?” Miranda said, her voice acerbic. The physician nodded. “I came to Presbyterian from the Walter Reed Army medical center,” she said. “Before that, I served at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, in Germany. I assure you, I am well qualified to treat your wife.” Miranda ducked her head, her face flushing. “We’re not married,” she husked. “I had meant to propose…” Lisa met Miranda’s eyes, a soft smile on her face. “Then let’s make sure she gets to hear that,” she said.

Miranda nodded, the sheen of grateful tears in her eyes. “Call me Miranda, then,” she said. The brunette smiled. “If you call me Lisa,” she said, walking to Andy’s bedside. Miranda glanced at the doctor. “Tell me about Andrea’s condition,” she asked.

The brunette’s eyes flickered over Caroline. “Do you want your daughter to stay?” she asked. Miranda gave a curt nod. “She’s entitled to know, even if she shouldn’t be here,” the editor said, glaring at Caroline. Lisa nodded. “Very well,” she said. “The collision caused Andrea to sustain a head injury. In this case, an acute subdural hematoma. Blood collected under the skull, putting pressure on her brain.”

Miranda let out a deep breath, hands trembling as she held Caroline. “What did you do?” she asked. The doctor paused. She turned, meeting the editor’s eyes. “I performed a craniotomy to repair the damage,” she said. “What does that mean?” the editor replied. The doctor met Miranda’s eyes. “I cut a hole into her skull,” answered Lisa. “To relieve pressure on the brain, and reach the damaged blood vessel.” Miranda stiffened at the doctor’s words, turning away.

Caroline blanched. She rose, slipping from her mother’s grasp. “I should go now,” she said, her eyes darting to the door. “To… to check on Cassidy.” The teen exited the room, her footsteps fading down the hall.

Lisa frowned. “I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes straying to the open door. “It was too much for her, I fear.” Miranda steeled herself, looking into the younger woman’s eyes. “What are Andrea’s chances?” she asked. “Will she recover?” The doctor sighed, vexed. “The surgery was delicate, the damage was… severe,” she said. “But there is a chance.”

Maryam looked on. “The doctor did well. She came close,” she murmured. “So very close to saving her.” Eloa grimaced. “Yet, still not enough,” she said. Maryam nodded. “Yes,” she said. “And so, we wait.” Eloa shook her head, eyes dark with grief. “I can’t,” she murmured. “Not here, not like this.” She turned, one hand grazing her friend’s shoulder as she passed.

Maryam caught her hand, pulling her close. “Eloa, please wait,” she said. Jade eyes met hers. “What is it?” Eloa asked, her voice weary. Maryam’s hand rose, smoothing silver hair from Eloa’s brow. “Do you think I want this?” she asked. “That I enjoy it? When I see what it does to you, how it hurts you?”

Green eyes misted, their regard tender. “No,” the argent haired beauty replied. “And that makes it worse, doesn’t it? To see all the pain this brings. To me. To you. To them.”

Maryam shook her head. “It isn’t our place, to decide who lives or dies,” she said. “You know that.” Eloa grasped her friend’s shoulders. “Why Maryam? Why is this necessary?” she said. “When did something as simple as mercy become forbidden?” Eloa turned, slipping from Maryam’s grasp. Leaving the honey-blonde behind.


	2. A Cry from the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline Priestly asks for help.

The small chapel lay silent. A vase of white roses and hydrangea upon the wooden altar. Eloa entered, seeking the room’s quiet, the peace radiating from within. At the front, a young girl sat, her hands clasped. Head bowed, her face curtained by russet hair. A prayer on her lips, her voice quiet, tinged with desperation. “Is somebody out there?” she said, “Can anybody hear me? I need help. For Andy.” The girl paused, lifting her face. Tears sparkling in her eyes. “I’m so afraid. So afraid she’s going to die.” She shook her head. “If she does, what will we do?” 

Caroline Priestly paused, brushing the tears away, her hand rough. “Mom finally found someone to love. Someone who loves her back, who loves us all. So please, please don’t take Andy away!” She sobbed, falling to her knees. “It’s my fault anyway,” she said, her voice cracking. “I had to go shopping today, for a stupid dance. I put us there, in that car. Don’t let her suffer, because of me!”

Eloa sighed, her face distressed as she listened.

_She’s a child, she shouldn’t feel this way._

_It’s not her fault._

The seraph closed her eyes, a storm of emotion in her breast.

_Why does it have to be like this?_

_This random, callous chance?_

The girl paused, her voice ashen. “You don’t know, what it was like, before. How hard it was. How hard to be a family.”

Caroline shook her head, her cheeks wet with tears. “Mom was always busy, always at work. Her days full of so many things. But she… she was empty. Always alone. No one saw her. Past the wall of ice, she built. The one to protect her heart. Not until Andy came. And it’s been good, so very good. To see her smile, to see her happy. So please, please help us!”

Eloa’s eyes opened, falling on the distraught girl. She brushed one hand before her breast. A ripple of silver light passed over her, changing her raiment. Robes changing into a starched white nurse’s uniform. Her hair pinned up, in an angular bun. She walked to the redhead, kneeling beside her.

Caroline stirred, lifting her eyes to the ash-blonde beauty. Eloa smiled, jade eyes soft with care, extending her hand to the girl. “Hi,” she said. “Are you all right?” The redhead sniffled, brushing at her eyes. She shook her head. “No,” she breathed. “I guess not.” The blonde gazed at the redhead, her eyes warm. “You’re visiting someone here, a patient, aren’t you? Caroline nodded “Yes,” she said. “My… my best friend.”

“You want to talk about it?” Eloa asked. “People say I’m a good listener.”

Caroline stared at the other woman. Self-conscious, transfixed by malachite eyes. “I’d… I’d like that,” she said. Her fingers clasped Eloa’s, her heart pounding. Alight with some strange joy that banished sorrow.

“Who are you?” Caroline asked. Eloa’s lips curved in a gentle smile, her eyes thoughtful. “You can call me… Elly,” she said. “I’m here in the trauma wing, most days.” The redhead looked down, a shy blush upon her face. “I’m Caroline,” she said. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you. My friend Andy is down the hall. She's hurt, and I…” The redhead broke off, overwhelmed.

“Come,” said Eloa. “Sit with me.” She rose, leading Caroline to a bench nearby. They sat, still holding hands. Caroline shrugged. "I'm... I'm so lost. I… I don’t know what to do,” she said, her voice hushed. Eloa nodded. “Tell me,” she said.

The redhead sighed, she gestured around her, at the chapel. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, not really. What to say, what to ask for,” she said. “All I know that someone I love may be dying, and I’d do anything, anything to help her.”

Eloa squeezed the younger woman’s hand. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling that way,” she said. “Life can be so hard, so full of suffering. It’s all right to cry out, to long for help. Even if you don’t know where to turn.” Caroline’s head fell to Eloa’s shoulder, a storm in her eyes. “Is there anyone out there?” she said. “Does anyone hear us? Do they even care? Or are we alone, crying out to an empty void? With nothing but the stars to witness our pain?”

Eloa stroked the redhead’s hair, her voice gentle. “We’re not alone,” she said. Caroline looked up. “You believe that?” she asked. The blonde tugged the young girl close, a gentle smile on her face. “Yes. Although sometimes it’s hard to see,” she said. “Especially when those we love get hurt, or leave us.”

Caroline looked up at the blonde. “How do you know?” she asked, her voice despairing. “Look at the world around us,” Eloa replied. “So many beauties, spread before us, each day. From the merest blade of grass, or grain of sand, to the trembling, wide-eyed wonder of a newborn child. It is no accident, no mere chance. No, all is created with care, with knowledge, with love. Even if we can’t understand the reason behind it, or the will that made it so.”

Caroline shook her head. “All I care about is Andy getting better,” she said. “She deserves a life with mom, with us. A life of happiness.” She paused, her voice desperate. “I want… I just want someone to help us,” she said. Eloa nodded. “I know,” the blonde said. She paused, her voice darkening. “But what if there is no help?” she asked. “What if you lose Andy?”

Caroline looked down, gazing at the floor. “Mom will be devastated,” she said, her voice hushed. “It will break her.” Her eyes raised, meeting Eloa’s. “You don’t know what she means to us. How much she’s made our lives better, simply by being in it. By being who she is.” The redhead let out a shuddering breath. “I never thought I’d have another parent,” she said. “Someone I’d love as much as mom. But with Andy, I do. Even if they aren’t married.”

Eloa shrugged. “Aren’t they?” she asked. “That’s what commitment is. More than just a set of rings, or page of pretty vows. It’s a pledge, to hold someone close, dearer than yourself, for all time. Because in them you find your heart’s delight.”

Caroline sniffled, brushing the tears from her eyes. She nodded. “That’s what mom and Andy have,” she said. “And they’ve been so happy. We all have. Because we’ve been together, a family. A real family.”

Eloa looked into the redhead’s eyes. The open portals of her soul. Seeing the memories there. Incandescent. Filled with joy. Of the brunette who lay shattered, down the hall.

_Andy_

Eloa held Caroline, fingers playing a design of comfort on her back. “It’s okay, you know,” she said. “To ask for what you need.” Caroline looked at the seraph, into gentle pools of green. “What do I do, Elly?” she responded. Ella smiled.  “Come with me,” she said. She stood, taking Caroline’s hand. Leading her to the altar. The blonde knelt before it, her head bowed. Caroline paused, then lowered herself beside the older woman. “What do I say?” the redhead asked.

Eloa looked at Caroline, eyes aglow with compassion. “Words aren’t needed,” she said. “Only the truth within your heart. Let it speak for you. Your fear, your guilt. Your sorrow, your love. Offer it up, to the one who made us. Who knows our faults, all our flaws and sins. Who loves us, anyway.”

Caroline clasped her hands, eyes shut. Eloa looked on, her eyes hazing with tears. Feeling the waves of emotion pouring off the girl. The need, the ache, the yearning.

_Please, please help them. I beg you._

_Let your grace shine down upon them._

A presence entered the room, unseen. Familiar.

_Maryam._

“It’s time,” the other seraph said, her voice a whisper in Eloa’s mind. “We need to be there, now.” Eloa bowed her head, sorrow clawing at her breast.

_This isn’t right._

_This isn’t fair._

_Please, don’t let it end this way._

Maryam appeared. A ghost beside Eloa. Her blue eyes concerned. “What are you doing?” she said. “We have to go, now. Time is short, we have to help Andy move on.”

Eloa’s eyes strayed to the girl beside her, kneeling in prayer.

_But what of those she leaves?_

Eloa nodded. She nudged Caroline, her fingers gentle. She pulled a phone from her pocket, showing it to the girl. “We have to go,” she said. “There’s been a change in Andy’s condition.”

The redhead stared at Eloa, dread upon her face. She nodded, her voice rough. “Okay,” she said. “We better get going.” The pair left the chapel, heading down the hallway, past the nurse’s station. Maryam following behind them, unseen.


	3. Fateful Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eloa makes a choice.

Eloa paused by Andy’s room, stopping in front of the heavy wooden door. “You go ahead,” she said to Caroline. “I’ll check up on you later, okay?” Caroline flew into the seraph’s arms, hugging her. “Thank you,” she said. “For listening to me, for being there.” The redhead turned. She opened the door, slipping into the room beyond.

Eloa waved her hand, releasing her disguise. A hand turned her around. “What was that?” asked Maryam, her voice sharp. “What are you doing?” Eloa sighed. “Please Maryam, try to understand. I’m trying to help her,” she answered. “She’s losing someone. Someone she loves like a mother!”

The blonde touched Eloa’s arm, eyes soft. Her face rueful, dismayed by her friend’s pain. “I understand,” she said. “But what can we do? It’s already decided.” Eloa looked at the honey-blonde, her face torn. “But is it right?” she asked. “Is it right, Maryam?”

Maryam shook her head. “I don’t know Eloa,” she replied. “I don’t. But this is our charge, our duty. How can we disobey?” Eloa shook her head, distraught. “Why should we have to?” she asked, frustrated. “This seems so wrong, so unjust. Needlessly cruel.” Maryam nodded, her face pensive. “Yes,” she said. “I understand. But life… it isn’t ours to give.”

Eloa met Maryam’s eyes. Her lips twisted, in a bitter sneer. “No, all we bring is death,” she said. Eloa brushed her friend away, entering the room behind them, invisible to those within. Maryam followed, her face tight, stung by her dismissal.

A sad tableau lay before them. A figure in a hospital bed, dark hair fanned out upon her pillow. Andy Sachs. Her breath shallow, faint. A small circle of people around the bed, some sitting, some standing.

Miranda, sitting in an armchair, holding Andy’s hand. Cassidy Priestly, sitting in a wheelchair, a sling about one arm. Caroline close beside her. A bald man standing with two women. A redhead and a blonde, their faces tracked with tears. Lisa Solomon, across the bed from Miranda, her face solemn.

Miranda sat by the bed, her voice a pleading whisper. “Please Andy,” she said. “Stay with me, darling. Please don’t leave!”

Eloa stepped forward, her fists clenched. She wheeled, staring at Maryam, her eyes beseeching. “Maryam!” she cried. “At least let them say goodbye…”

The honey-blonde gazed at Eloa. Jade and blue eyes meeting in tumult. Maryam sighed. “For a moment,” she said. “Before they part.”

_For you_

Maryam waved one hand. A ripple of energy swathed the bed, rousing Andy from slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, falling upon Miranda. The editor gasped. “Andy,” she breathed. Her hand tightening on the brunette’s. The brunette shook her head, wincing as she did. “Miranda,” she said. “The car… what happened? Are the girls alright?” Miranda nodded, tears falling. “Yes, darling, they’re right here.”

Caroline and Cassidy crowded near. “We’re okay,” said Cassidy. “You made sure of that. Now you have to get better.” Caroline nodded, choking back a sob. Miranda squeezed Andy’s hand, a watery smile on her face. “That’s all that matters,” she said. The brunette raised one hand to her head, feeling the bandages wrapped there. “I got pretty banged up, huh?” she asked, a weak grin on her face. “Good thing I’ve always had a pretty hard noggin.”

Miranda wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m... I'm so glad you’re awake, darling,” she said. Andy threaded her fingers with the editor’s. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Sorry for making you worry.” Miranda shook her head. “Of course, I worried,” she husked. “I love you.”

The brunette held Miranda’s hand to her breast, tears sparkling in her eyes. “Thank you, Miranda,” she said. “For loving me. For caring for me. For giving me a place to call home. I’m so thankful, so very thankful for each moment we’ve had.”

Andy pressed her lips to Miranda’s hand. A hard, wet cough shook her frame. Miranda sat the brunette up, holding her close. “Andrea, are you alright?” she asked, panic rising in her voice. “What’s wrong?” The brunette met her eyes, her face wan. “So tired,” she breathed. “Can’t keep my eyes open. But I want to. I want to so much, just so I can look at you some more.” Andy smiled, her eyes like dying stars, fierce with adoration. “I love you,” she said. “I love you so very much…”

Andy slumped forward, into her love’s arms. Her head falling upon Miranda’s shoulder. The heart monitor screeched, its rhythm chaotic. The editor stared, her face ashen. Lisa snapped into action. She lay the brunette down, pushing a crash cart against the bed.

Caroline slumped against her sister. Holding her tight, against her breast, eyes streaming tears. A whisper on her lips only the seraphs could hear. “Someone, please help,” she said. “Please…”

A voice sounded beside Maryam. Sharp, aching.

“Stop!” it cried.

Eloa’s voice.

Time halted. The figures around the hospital bed frozen, motionless.

Maryam’s eyes snapped to Eloa, wide with shock. The other seraph stood before her, one arm stretched out. Silver hair in disarray, anguish etched upon her face.

“What have you done?” Maryam gasped, a sudden chill within her breast.

_This is rebellion_

Eloa stepped towards the bed, her shoulders bowed. As though some burden, some terrible loss lay before her. “It’s not your fault, Maryam,” she said. “This is my choice, of my own will.” She neared the bed, changing with each step. Shedding earthly garb. Her form translucent, heart and soul revealed. Radiant. Filling the room with light, a sun breaking free from clouds.

Eloa looked down at the brunette, her voice soft. “So fleeting is their time, so brief,” she said. “In this moment, Andy lives. The next, she perishes, taking with her so much light. So much hope. So much love. Leaving only sorrow behind.”

Maryam looked at Eloa, shaking her head. “Eloa, please…”

Green eyes pierced the honey-blonde, bright with tears. “I can’t do this, Maryam,” she said. “I can’t let them suffer. I’m… I’m sorry.”

Eloa paused beside the bed, her eyes upon Andy. She stretched out one hand, touching the brunette’s cheek. “What good is life, without love?” she whispered. “And what use is love, without a life to share it in?”

Maryam crossed to the ash-blonde, her voice breaking. “Eloa, there’s still time,” she said. “You don’t have to do this. You know what this will mean. Please…”

_Don’t leave me_

Eloa turned. “I have to,” she said, her gaze lighting on Miranda. “I would feel the same, the very same, if my love lay there. So desperate for someone, anyone, to help.” 

Maryam looked at her friend. “Love?” she asked. Jade eyes locked with blue. “Is it so strange?” Eloa replied. “How can we love the one who made us, who made all things, and not those dear to us?”

_So very dear._

Eloa turned back towards the bed. She stroked Andy’s brow, her voice a quiet murmur. “These wounds, now mend, and be made whole,” she said. A shimmer of gold left her fingers, flowing over the stricken woman. Wrapping her round, a gentle blanket. Sinking into her flesh. Andy’s pallor receded, a flush of pink returning to her cheeks.

Eloa turned to Miranda. She took her hand, placing it upon the brunette’s. “Take this gift, and use it wisely,” she said, her voice a tender whisper. “Love her, always love her. Cherish each moment, until the very last. For they mean _everything_.”

The glow faded from Eloa’s form. She paused, a bittersweet smile upon her face. She looked at Maryam. “I have to go now,” she said. “There’ll be a reckoning for this, and soon. You shouldn’t be near.”

Maryam shook her head. “Eloa, please don’t go,” she said.

Eloa closed her eyes, a shuddering breath leaving her. “I… I don’t want you to see,” she said. “I don’t think I could bear it. Please, don’t make me stay.”

A low rolling note tolled through the room. Like a bell, impossibly deep. Unheard, except by the two spirits.

“Judgement,” Eloa whispered, her eyes dark with sorrow. Her hands rose, curved beneath her breast. She looked down. A spot grew there. Dark, oily. A dusky ripple, staining her robes, tainting white satin. It spread across her form. Her wings, once snowy, now sable. Her hair, unbound, changed too. It’s silver length a cascade of ebony. Her eyes lifted to Maryam’s. Bright jade turned ruby, wet with tears. Sanguine, the color of blood. Of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “So sorry.” Maryam pulled her friend close, her voice a quiet whisper. “For saving Andy?” she asked. Eloa shook her head. “No, not for that,” she said. “Never for that.”

Maryam’s face twisted in grief. “Then what?” she breathed. Eloa brushed her lips across the honey-blonde’s forehead. “For leaving you,” she said, a tremor in her voice. Her form shimmered as she left, flickering away.


	4. Falling for Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eloa is lost. Maryam finds her.

The hospital room was dark. The reading lamp beside the bed cast a wan light over Andy. Miranda sat nearby, in a green recliner. The Book beside her, forgotten. Chocolate eyes opened, blinking, regaining focus. Andy turned her head. Lips curving in a gentle smile, seeing the woman beside her. “Miranda,” she said. “Why are you still here?” The editor took her lover’s hand.  “I couldn’t possibly sleep, with you here,” she said. “So, I decided to wait.” Andy chuckled lightly. “Sorry I can’t make a coffee run,” she said, glancing at the clock. “It’s only… what, four am?” Miranda smirked. “No need,” she replied. “I have the newest Emily for that.”

Andy took Miranda’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “It’s so dark, so quiet, in these places at night.” Miranda bent down, pressing her lips to Andy’s knuckles. “How are you feeling?” she asked. “Is there anything I can do? Anything I can get you?” Andy smiled, shaking her head. “No, everything I need is right here,” she said, her eyes shining.

“Do you remember anything about what happened?” Miranda asked. Andy shook her head. “After the accident, no,” she said. “Then I was awake in the hospital room. We were talking, then everything started to fade. Bleeding away, to black and white. Like I was falling. Falling away, so far, and there was nothing I could do.”

Andy looked down, her eyes wistful. “I could see a light, shining above. So distant. So beautiful,” she said. “I wanted to go there, to be within that light. But something held me back, made me stop and want to turn around.”

“What?” asked Miranda.

Andy smiled, squeezing the editor’s hand. “You,” she breathed. “You, Miranda. The light didn’t mean anything, if you weren’t there with me. I couldn’t bear to part. To leave you, and our children.”

“Ours?” whispered Miranda. Andy nodded. “Yes,” she breathed. “I love the girls, as if they were my very own. As much as I love you.”

Miranda leaned over, gently capturing Andy’s lips with her own. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, my darling.” She paused, blue eyes tracing her love’s face. “Then what happened?”

A baffled expression flickered across Andy’s face. “That’s the strange part,” she said. “I felt myself being pulled away, screaming on the inside. So desperate not to leave. Yet, the more I struggled, the further away I was.”

Miranda clutched onto Andy’s hands, her eyes soft. “But you came back,” she said. “How did you do it?”

Andy shook her head. “I didn’t. I couldn’t do anything,” she said. A sob broke free from her throat, tears falling. “Then, suddenly, I wasn’t alone. I felt it. Someone there, beside me. Fighting for me. Fighting for _us_.”

Miranda’s fingers tightened on Andy’s. “Who?” she asked.

Andy shrugged. “I don’t know,” she replied. “All I know is that they cared. That they were there to help.”

Miranda brushed the tears from Andy’s face, with gentle fingers. “Help?” she asked.

Andy nodded. “Yes. Someone there, calling me back,” she said. “A presence. Full of love. Full of light.” Her eyes met Miranda’s. “It reminded me of you. Of how much you mean to me. How I never want to leave you. Ever.”

Miranda leaned forward, curious. “What did it feel like? asked Miranda.

Andy closed her eyes. A look, half sorrow, half joy, blooming on her face. “So warm, so kind. Yet sad, too,” she said. “Like they bore a heavy burden. A cost they paid for their care.”

The brunette shook her head. “That’s why I’m like this. Why I can’t control these tears. Because our joy comes at another’s loss. Someone else’s pain. Yet I can’t help feeling grateful. Feeling blessed. Because we’re here. We’re together. It’s real, and I get to love you.”

Miranda smiled, eyes bright with elation. She leaned down, brushing her lips against Andy’s. “As I do you,” she replied.

* * *

Eloa stood atop the Brooklyn Bridge, feet braced upon a tower of limestone and granite. Looking out across the city, towards Battery Park. She looked up, letting out a deep breath. Dawn’s light grew overhead. Deep blue hazing pink, across the horizon.

She felt it now, inside. Like a door being shut, forevermore. Her banishment. The price of her sin. For her presumption. Her pride.

_Her pity_

She shook her head. “It was worth it,” she said. “Even now, after all this. It was worth it.”

She closed her eyes, letting the first rays of morning’s light warm her skin.

_Will I ever get used to it? This distance, this separation?_

She bowed her head, merlot eyes desolate.

_Hell was no chasm of flame and pitch._

_No, nothing so simple._  

Eloa shook her head, her cheeks wet. “If only it were,” she husked.

It was just this. This thing within her now. This emptiness. This sorrow. Being forever apart. Alone. Thrust away from heaven’s light. The light of understanding. Of completion.

Of love.

Eloa sobbed, one face called to mind. A memory, held close, cherished.

Of sky-blue eyes, sparkling with delight. Of hair, honey-gold, warm beneath her touch. Of guileless fingers, twining with her own.

A smile, that taught her heart to sing.

_My friend, my dearest friend_

Eloa looked down, tears lost in the river far below. “What will I do without you, Maryam?” she whispered. “Of all the things I’ve lost, and all they’ve stripped of me, it’s you alone I miss.”

The seraph shook her head, her voice bleak. “I… I cannot face eternity, without you near.”

A hand fell upon Eloa’s shoulder. A soft voice, at her ear.

“Nor can I,” it said.

_Maryam_

Eloa turned, her eyes wide. Trembling. She raised her hands, fingers reverent. Eager to touch. Framing the blonde’s lovely face. “How can you be here?” she asked. “How is this possible?”

Maryam sighed, savoring Eloa’s warmth upon her skin. “Choice,” she said. “A simple choice.”

Eloa shook her head. “What choice?” she asked.

Maryam met her friend’s eyes. “You,” she said. “I chose you. To be with you, always, wherever fate may lead.”

Eloa searched the blonde’s eyes. “Why?” she asked.

The blonde smiled. She leaned close, taking Eloa’s lips with her own.

“I love you,” Maryam said. “I love you. No matter where or what you are. Forever.”

Eloa ducked her head. Her voice low, fragile. “I thought I was lost,” she said. “That everything was over. But now… now you’re here. You’re here, and I…” She looked up, garnet eyes tender. “Oh, Maryam, I love you, I love you so!”

Maryam pulled Eloa close, hands upon her hips. “Thank you,” she said. “That’s all I want. All I need. To hear those words. To hold them close. To share my heart, and all I am with you.”

She smiled, as it began. The change.  A thing so quiet, like whispered grief. White wings and mantle first, falling into shadow. Her hair next, from honey to raven. Blues eyes last, azure turned incarnadine.

Eloa looked on, eyes full of tears. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Sorry that I brought you here, to this.”

Maryam shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said. “Had I lives that numbered as the stars, I’d still choose this. I'd still choose you, each time. To meet you, and fall for you, and fall _with_ you. Because you’re everything to me.”

They came together. Complete, within each other’s arms, as the sun turned morning golden.

Exalted, on a single kiss.

Blessed, in their damnation.

Apart, all heaven but a hell.

Their hell together heaven.


End file.
